


Food from the Heart

by shmorgas



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bakery AU, Fluff, M/M, academia au, eating disorder recovery mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 18:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13219083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shmorgas/pseuds/shmorgas
Summary: “Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.” -Harriet van HorneCasey follows this advice to a T. Even when it goes mostly unnoticed.





	Food from the Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [melk24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melk24/gifts).



> Happy holidays Mel! I wanted to give you one of the best Isles pairings ever and I very much hope I delivered. I threw in references in to your other requested pairings though unfortunately, couldn't get Auston and DeBrincat to make an appearance this time. :( 
> 
> Much love to A and M for encouraging and doing quick beta of the fic. S also gets love for fic chatting some issues. You all are wonderful.

_**one: banana chocolate chip bread** _

Casey has a problem and it is not the usual problem that goes on the bakery: a short inventory or a grumpy customer. No, this has been a problem that he has been ignoring for nearly a decade now and because he no longer has the weight of doctoral academia weighing on him anymore, he cannot ignore it.

Casey is head over heels in love with his best friend and business partner, Matt Martin.

“About fucking time!” Cal exclaims when Casey finally confesses. Casey throws a towel at Cal and Cal just takes it without commentary.

“Eat shit,” Casey tells him.

“Try to run the fucking accounts without me, I fucking dare you.”

“Will the both of you stop shouting?” their minion Josh calls back to them. “You’re scaring away my customers.”

“Hey Casey, great for figuring out your love life status but I need you to show me how to do the banana bread again,” Beau chirps.

“Again?” Casey asks, putting his apron back on and getting into work mode. He has shown Beau how to make banana bread before, it’s stunning how this one thing isn’t sticking.

“No, not really, but I know Matt is making his rare appearance today and I don’t want you hovering over me, saying how I’m doing everything wrong,” Beau says. Casey flushes red and sends Beau to work on the Sweet Sixteen cake sampling. It’s honestly embarrassing how everyone at Fourth Line, save for Matt himself, seems to know about the true depth of Casey’s feelings. 

Banana chocolate bread is simple, easy, reminds Casey of the so-called cheat days he used to have as an athlete. He throws several pans of it into the oven and goes over to help Beau. It’s a slow day to have all six of them in, Barz being in the office with Cal going over how to order sustainably and within the budget, but they need to have a meeting at least twice a month. It keeps everyone on track and it gives their local media expert a break from his hectic day-to-day.

Speaking of the devil, Matt comes into Fourth Line with three different bags, pushing several unused tables together to set out his coursework from his three schools, the social media reports for Fourth Line, and his laptop. To think, this is only the beginning of the semester. 

Josh rings up their last customer and puts up a sign saying “Business meeting” to join them. Everyone emerges from their hidey holes and comes to join Matt in his chaos. Casey pulls a loaf of the bread and gives the second slice, which everyone knows is the best slice, to Matt.

“Thanks, Zeeker,” Matt says when Casey puts the plate up. 

“Is this the best you can do? No 'hello, Cal'? 'Hello, rookies'? Just a 'hi, Zeeker'?” Cal chirps.

“Go fuck yourself,” Matt says with a cheery grin and a middle finger in the air. 

Matt barely touches the banana bread and Casey tries not to be disappointed.

_**two: quiche lorraine** _

For once, it isn’t another two weeks until Casey sees Matt again. In fact, he sees Matt getting set up for a couple hours in the corner when he decides to make a quiche. Part-owner has its perks, including an actual lunch that isn’t just coffee and dealing with undergrads.

He’s bringing a slice over when he sees that an undergrad has joined Matt at his table, one with a damn NYU sweater on. Casey tries to swallow school rivalry feelings down.

“Zeeker, you didn’t have to,” Matt says when Casey sets down the plate in front of him.

“Consider it my treat for having to still deal with undergrads,” he tells him.

“Hey!” the said undergrad pipes up. God, Casey is getting old because this one is young. Floppy brown hair, snapback, apparently looking the preppy cool that everyone lusts after in that age bracket these days.

“Mitchy is a good egg,” Matt tells Casey.

“For NYU,” Casey says drily. 

“Are you another Columbia alum friend?” Mitchy asks. 

“Mitch Marner, this is Dr. Casey Cizikas. Casey, this is my student Mitch. He has a real aptitude for rhetorical arguments in modern media presentation,” Matt introduces. Casey and Mitch shake hands.

“Doctor Cizikas?” Mitch asks, completely baffled. Casey is still covered in flour from other orders and his arms speak of throwing dough around instead of taking books off the shelf. 

“I defended my dissertation a couple years back on the role of nutrition and recuperating from eating disorders. Didn’t feel like getting on a tenure track or going the clinician route when I could be doing something more practical, you know?” Casey answers. Mitch blinks and his expressive mouth drops. Mat is running the cashier today and snorts, clearly eavesdropping on this entire interaction. 

“Yeah, no, I get that. You just surprised me with that. A PhD working a bakery isn’t something you hear every day,” Mitch says.

“A sustainable living catering company and bakery,” Matt and Casey say together. The gobsmack face continues and while Casey is really happy that he decided to get the fuck out when he did, seeing the awe of an undergrad is pleasing.

“Fuck, man,” Mitch says before realizing he is in front of a teacher and not a friend.

Matt laughs. 

“Can you get another slice of quiche for Mitchy? I think I adopted another,” he tells Casey. Casey groans good-heartedly before fetching that slice.

_**three: peanut butter and cinnamon baked apples** _

Fall is truly in full swing when Casey even thinks about taking out the baked apples. Not only do the flavors remind everyone of fall, it’s on the quiet recommend list for recovery that the bakery hosts. He is pulling a tray out from the oven when, holy fuck, John Tavares comes walking in the door. 

JT seems to be a little afraid when he comes up to the register and thank god, it’s Josh who is there and not Barz, or there would be blood. Josh gives almost no shits as he rings up the baked apple for John. Casey sets it on the plate and hands it off, silent and not saying anything unless John wants it. There is a polite thank you before John takes it and goes to take a seat. He’s nervous but takes methodical bites of the apple, drawing the experience out to enjoy the flavor. 

Casey is fiercely glad to see this.

John is waiting for someone, and Casey feels his stomach drop out from his feet when he sees Ryan Strome walk through the damn door. He looks to Matt’s corner to see if Ryan is coming in to see his old advisor but alas, he’s not there. Ryan doesn’t even come to order anything, just beelines to John and oh fuck, is there a polite way to get customers out of here?

There is no storming, no yelling. Some apprehension of course but nothing that immediately said call the police.

“Oh, thank god,” Matt breaths next to Casey, and he wants to jump. 

“What the fuck is this Matt?” Casey asks, hissing between his teeth. Matt isn’t glib to respond. He leans in towards Casey, highlighting how big he is. Casey is large from working in the bakery but god, Matt is taller and so fucking beautiful it hurts. 

“I didn’t say anything. John only asked me if Ryan would make the trip to see him from Rutgers,” he responds and Casey has to bring himself back to the impending disaster. He looks over to John and Ryan, and it’s something fragile blooming again. Casey averts his eyes right away because it’s too private. 

“Come on, tell me how to make these apples,” Matt says. They go to the back and let the almost lovers settle their old problems. 

_**four: marshmallow** _

Fourth Line has too much going on to offer any many coffee options (despite the insistence from the rookies), but Casey tries to make sure that when the weather turns, he has something for those who bring in their thermoses. He brings in the old index card bearing the recipe and texts Matt one thing: “it’s time.” Casey is surprised to have a response within fifteen minutes, just a series of exclamation points. 

Matt is running down the street and slams the door open within the next hour. He’s sweating through his good shirt, a white button up with rolled up sleeves, hair hanging in front of his face like it was trying to be long and floppy again. Casey can see where the shirt is clinging to Matt and goddamn, he still doesn’t wear any undershirt. Fuck, he’s beautiful and it reminds Casey how much the academic life fits him. Matt takes in a deep breath, pushing his hair up and away from his eyes.

“Marshmallows,” he says and the word is imbued with love and want. Casey swallows the lump in his throat.

“Yeah, can’t make them without you Marty,” he tells him. It’s the occam's razor of his life, on levels that he dares not say. Matt smiles and Casey can’t help but smile back.

“Thank you,” Matt says before going towards the office to drop off his things and see if he has better clothes to work in. Casey returns to the kitchen to get started on the marshmallows, pulling out and measuring most of the ingredients. Cal is on the other side of the kitchen, finishing off the lunch special sample for the customers. Matt soon comes in and suddenly, it’s like they’re back in their shitty apartment in undergrad, just making food and Fourth Line being a distant dream.

“Two batches today, right?” Matt asks.

“Regular and your crazy fucking pumpkin spice,” Casey answers. Cal groans in the back.

“Can we shoot the idea of pumpkin spice? The season hasn’t started and I’m already fucking sick of it,” he says.

“Sorry Cal, you know that we gotta appease the Pumpkin Spice crowd,” Matt laughs. He pulls out his phone and does a quick boomerang for Fourth Line insta story. 

The work is like that, mixing and snapping the progress along the way. Casey sticks his tongue out at Matt and it gets on the story too. By the time they’re pulling the marshmallows out to sit for a few hours, the account has picked up some traffic. Matt’s phone is buzzing almost nonstop. He reads a couple of messages before laughing at one. Casey looks over and Matt shares the screen without any questions.

It’s Dylan Strome, sending heart eyes and asking for a bag. “So I can prove my superiority,” he texts.

“You remember Mitchy, my undergrad?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, the one who didn’t believe the Dr. Cizikas thing at first,” Casey answers.

“It’s the same kid Dylan has been pulling pigtails with since forever ago,” Matt says and Casey can’t help but laugh.

“Really? What a small fucking world,” he says. They continue to laugh as Matt shares stories about Mitch and Dylan. They talk until the marshmallows are set and they test the batch. 

“Perfect. Seriously, thank god I cancelled classes today,” Matt moans. Casey feels warm all over.

_**five: snickerdoodle** _

The store has been closed for a few hours when Casey is finished making a personal batch of snickerdoodles. It’s a pain to have to rewash certain dishes but considering that a certain someone is passed out from grading in the dining area, it’s worth it. He plates a couple, pours a glass of milk, and walks out to see Matt, who has fallen asleep in the middle of his work.

Matt is disarrayed in the way that only adjuncts can be during finals. Papers, everywhere. Laptop, slowly dying. Glasses, skewed. Personal life, gone. Casey definitely doesn’t miss this but he can do everything in his power to make it less shitty. He places the cookies and milk down before he lightly shakes Matt’s shoulder. Matt stirs and yawns, sleepy and exhausted. He smiles at Casey.

“Are those cookies?” he asks.

“Snickerdoodles,” Casey answers. Matt smiles even wider and leans up, kissing Casey full on the mouth.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. Casey is frozen. His body has gone stiff, tingles rushing from his lips down towards his heart, hand still on Matt’s shoulder. Did that really just happen? Matt is taking a bite of the snickerdoodle when he freezes mid-bite. He’s doing his best chipmunk impression when he looks back up at Casey, eyes reflecting the same kind of hope and dread Casey feels.

“Swallow your food,” he says. Matt does and he still looks terrified.

“Casey, I-” he starts before Casey puts a finger on his lips. Matt stops and waits for Casey to react. Slowly, Casey leans down and kisses him, running his hand up to his neck and placing the other on Matt’s cheek. Matt responds enthusiastically, pulling at Casey’s hips to bring him closer. They kiss and kiss and kiss until the cookies go cold.

_**and one: grilled cheese** _

Casey wakes up to his face being kissed and the smell of melted cheese and butter.

“Matt,” Casey groans.

“Come on, sleepy, I have something for you,” Matt murmurs. He kisses Casey deeply and it finally stirs him to full awareness.

“And what,” Casey asks in between kisses, “is that?” Matt pulls away to smile and caress Casey’s cheekbones with his thumbs. 

“Some grilled cheese without any smoke detectors going off,” he says and Casey laughs despite himself.

“It was one time,” he protests with a smile. Matt kisses him again.

“Never going to let it go,” he promises and Casey knows that it’s filled with much deeper meaning. Everything is perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year everyone and I hope that you found this to be a bright spot!


End file.
